


Five Times our Stars Cross

by KaisaSolstys



Series: Taking These Steps [1]
Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: 5 Times, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Humor, Crossdressing, Eventual Fluff, Heartfelt Conversations, Light Angst, M/M, Slow To Update
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-11
Updated: 2019-11-28
Packaged: 2021-01-26 18:20:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21378475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaisaSolstys/pseuds/KaisaSolstys
Summary: 5 times the two meet after Chrollo finally gets his Nen back. They get a little closer each time, but things are complicated. What else is new to Kurapika’s life.A prequel to “Duplicates”.
Relationships: Kuroro Lucifer | Chrollo Lucifer/Kurapika
Series: Taking These Steps [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1536712
Comments: 24
Kudos: 43





	1. First Re-Encounter

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Chocoholic221B](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chocoholic221B/gifts).

> Thank you, again, Chocoholic 221B for beta-ing for me! And also to the rest of the gang over at the KuroKura Discord chat! :D You guys have re-ignited my passion for writing! Thanks for all your support and ideas!

An odd sensation pulls through Kurapika’s core. It isn’t a terrible feeling. It didn’t compel Kurapika to throw up or lurch in any way. If anything, it felt like the sudden wash of cold one would get from drinking a cold glass of water after taking a hot shower. But rather than refreshing, the feeling settles in the pit of his stomach.

Something has meddled with his chains. More specifically, the chains that Kurapika had placed on the Spider Head’s heart have altered, though it doesn’t appear to have been removed. 

He pauses in his consideration, absentmindedly fiddling with the corner of the sheets of paper he was reading through: A bodyguarding job with a high-end client. A guard job with a museum. A protection job for a collector.

The last one seems promising. Sighing, Kurapika began to fill out the form, hoping this one would at least have a lead on the Scarlet Eyes.

No use in worrying about something he can’t help at the moment. In any case, his focus isn’t on the Spiders anymore.

Kurapika puts down his pen and reads over the form, double-checking for any mistakes. 

He will just deal with the problems as they come. One at a time. 

First, to see if he can get any lead with this job.

###  +*+*+

When the deep ache in his chest finally alleviates, Chrollo feels like he was finally able to breath. 

  
Drawing in deep breaths, he is finally able to breathe easy for the first time in five months.

Five months of bearing a humiliating defeat. Five months of replaying the events of York New over and over in his head. Five months of seeing brilliant red eyes behind his own close lids, so filled with anger and spite.

At first, Chrollo had been furious with himself. He was so careful, so meticulous with his plans. Always. Never once had he led his Troupe astray. And yet, in one fell swoop, in the span of less than a week, he had lost two of his Legs, and had himself rendered inoperative, by a small blond with vengeful eyes. 

But, as the five months passed, as he waited by the game console for Hisoka to make contact with his Troupe, as he waited for them to find the Exorcist, all that waiting really had him consider the anomaly that is the last surviving Kurta. 

And even that came as a surprise to him. Apparently, his careful planning wasn’t so careful when this specific Kurta is involved, even back then. He was so sure he had planned everything to the last detail that time as well. And yet, Kurapika had eluded his grasp.

How fascinating.

Chrollo’s eyes narrow in thought. With his Nen returned, he now has to take the next steps carefully. There is the matter to settle with Hisoka. After all, a promise is a promise. And while he may be a murderous thief, no one can claim him to be a liar. Usually.

But before that, there is another matter he wants to see to first.

Chrollo glances up from his book at the sound of the announcer’s voice, calling passengers to board the airship for Glam Gas.

Snapping his book close, Chrollo got up and went to queue up. 

###  +*+*+

Kurapika steps out of the elevator and into the Glam Hotel lobby, waving away a plume of hazy smoke that seeps through the air, coming from the Casino part of the hotel. Despite how much perfume the establishment douses on the place, it will never be able to cover the smell of tobacco that permeates the place. 

Eager to be away from the loud chimes of machines offset by cheerfully soothing jazz music and the occasional cheering voices, Kurapika quickly left through the grand entryway that was so ostensibly decorated, Kurapika is willing to bet that the filigree alone would be able to feed him for a year if not more.

Adjusting his scarf and hat, Kurapika began to join the flow of people that were always present in the streets of the city that never sleeps. The brilliant lights of the moving billboards and signs light up the city so that it was indiscernible from the day. 

Kurapika walks down the street to his hotel, one that is much simpler and modest compared to the one he had just left, but still not by much. Everything in this city screams excess and luxury. Though, this hotel was calmer in comparison to the loud, party-filled atmosphere of a casino hotel.

Kurapika stops and sits by the fountain that is situated in front of the hotel, deciding to take a break to process his progress. 

He has met with a representative of the client. As always, the actual person he is working for remains, safely, out of the way until Kurapika has been fully checked through. The standard process that Kurapika has gotten used to by now. Clients don’t typically meet up with people that can potentially kill them, and the clients Kurapika has been dealing with wouldn’t want to hire anyone that didn’t have that potential. 

With a sigh, Kurapika ponders how he came to this. 

_ For my brethren _ . He tells himself. His long search to put his clan to rest. Fully, and truly. Not the makeshift graves he had dug by himself. Not the hastily marked stones he had to use in place of a worthy resting place for his kin. 

He had no time. He had no choice. There were so many of them, and he couldn't…  _ he couldn’t.  _

Be there for them? Be there to try and defend his village? What would he have done, so young back then with no knowledge of Nen?

It was irrational to regret a past that would have yielded a much more tragic end, but at this point,  _ how much more tragic can this be?  _ Isn’t leaving him alive the same as killing him? 

Kurapika buries his face in his hands. 

Snow has just begun to fall. Gently, the flakes flutter down to blanket the world around Kurapika.

Kurapika didn’t move for a while, too caught up with his inner turmoils to notice the time pass.The muffle crunch of disturbed snow eluded Kurapika until it stops right in front of him. 

“Well, this was certainly not how I thought I would find you.” A smooth, baritone voice came from above him.

A voice that Kurapika instantly recognized, and the blond jerks upright to stare into the face of Chrollo Lucifer. 

###  +*+*+

Chrollo stares down at the blond in front of him. Far from what he had thought he would find. The last time he had seen the Kurta, he had been full of vengeance. Like Calamity made flesh, to bring about the ill Karma Chrollo had accumulated. 

And it was that same feeling that had embedded itself into his heart, leading him like a beacon towards the stormy fire that burns as brightly as the Scarlet Eyes that had bewitched him.

But the blond in front of him was far from what he had in mind. Still so curiously interesting, but none of that fire that was ignited that night could be seen. His entire being seems to be depressed by a weight that hangs over him. 

Chrollo is careful to not let his disappointment show. _Is this to be boring then?_ As soon as this thought came to Chrollo, it is swiftly banished. 

The Kurta in front of him, recognizing who was standing before him, jumped in surprise. His eyes widen in comical disbelief, mouth falling open in a gape. It was as if his entire being is resuscitated, jolting back to life at the awareness of Chrollo.

To say Kurapika is surprised is an understatement. To say that he is bewildered wouldn’t even cover half of it.

_ How had he not noticed? _

Kurapika clamps his mouth shut with an audible click, gathers his composure, and made to stand up, only to realize that  _ Chrollo was standing way too close _ . And from the smirk on the dark-haired man’s face, he seems to know and  _ not bothering to move back. _

Well, if the thief was going to be stubborn, Kurapika wasn’t going to back down. Instead, he crosses his arms, and glares.

“What do you want, Spider.”

Chrollo tilts his head as he regards the blond in front of him. What did he want? Revenge? To see the Kurta squirm? To  _ break _ him for tangling with his Troupe? That would be what anyone would want when they see the enemy that has cost them two lives. It _should_ be what Chrollo wants. But if that’s the case, then where’s the bloodlust that he should be feeling?

As the silence stretches on, Kurapika can feel himself wanting to fidget, but he refuses to even break eye contact with the thief in front of him. If it was a game of endurance the Spider Head wants, then Kurapika was sure to make him feel the pain of it! Kurapika still remembers the training for his Nen Ability. This is nothing compared to the patience he had cultivated in order to form his chains.

“To be honest, I’m not so sure.” 

**...**

“What?” Kurapika’s flat response is met with a thoughtfully amused look.

“There were multiple things I wanted with you.” Chrollo passes Kurapika in order to sit on the edge of the snow-covered fountain. “But none of that really felt concrete. So, I figured I would figure it out when I see you in person.”

Kurapika’s head turns to follow Chrollo’s movements. He huffs out a puff of cold air at the admission.

“So, then? What  _ do  _ you want?”   
  


Chrollo clasps his hands together, resting his chin on top of the folds of his fingers. 

“I’m actually surprised. I would have thought you would have a stronger reaction when we meet.”

_ Dodging my questions _ . Kurapika tsks.

“Well, sad to tell you, but I am here on business. You’re not on the top of my list of priorities at the moment.”

“Oh? Is that a challenge?”

_ Is he … is he teasing me? _ !

“No,” Kurapika sharply replies. “Don’t take that as a challenge. I’m here to do my job. Like a  _ normal _ person.” As soon as those words left his mouth, Kurapika wishes he could take them back.

The silent “ _ but you’re not normal”  _ went unsaid, but was felt by both, and knew the other felt it too.

A silence stretched between the two. Kurapika looking away to count at the snowflakes drifting downwards, while Chrollo silently observes.

“Well, if you’re no longer actively hunting the Phantom Troupe, does this mean you’re finally at peace?”

_ Boring it is. _ But no. Chrollo is watching Kurapika closely, so he doesn’t miss the smallest flinch that went through Kurapika’s shoulders at his words, nor the tightness in his jaws.  _ Not finished then _ .

Chrollo’s eyes curve into a knowing grin, though his lips still remain a polite smile. 

“Not revenge, yet not at peace. Are you looking for the Eyes then?”

_ Bingo _ . 

While Chrollo hit the nail on the head with that last deduction, it was the last straw for Kurapika. 

“That’s none of your business.” 

The curt response was accompanied by heavy footsteps, stomping into the crispy new snow that has now blanketed the entire city. 

Chrollo watches Kurapika’s retreating form, considering.

What did he want with the Kurta?


	2. Chance Meeting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you Chocoholic221B and HanaReader for beta reading for me! I would not have been able to make it this far without you guys!
> 
> And to Chocoholic221B and Lunalover365 for the wonderful naming of this chapter’s villain, Alexander Beaufils! :D  
Beau = handsome/beautiful, Fils = Sons (FR)

The collector turns out to be a bust. It had been two weeks into the job before Kurapika was trusted enough to be allowed to even know what he had been guarding. 

Porcelain figurines. 

That was the collection. Ceiling to floor are lined with shelves, taking up every inch of the three walls. The top shelves are lined with tiny porcelain figurines, staring vacantly down at Kurapika. Below them are bigger figurines with equally blank eyes. 

In a way, Kurapika could understand why something so… unnerving could be considered priceless. The details that were carved into the porcelain were fine and delicate. From human to animal, the figurines felt as if they could move, if not for the emptiness of their eyes. And in their stillness, there is an unnerving beauty about them; their motions were lifelike, as if caught in the middle of a movement. 

But honestly, Kurapika wonders who in their right mind would want to keep them without the thought of being cursed crossing their minds. But then again, there are also people that like to collect body parts. In comparison, this is tame. 

Speaking of which.

Today marks two weeks since Kurapika applied to guarding the collector of an extensive collection of porcelain figurines. In that time, this is the first time the blond has been able to speak to the man one-on-one. The eccentric son of a billion dollar company CEO was also quite reclusive and private. And, according to the head guard who is in charge of Kurapika’s assignments, didn’t like to be disturbed unless it’s for something personal.

Apparently, now is that something personal.

Mr. Alexander Beaufils sits across from Kurapika, staring at the blond with an eagerly expectant look on his face. His inky black hair is combed and tied back at the nape of his neck, and he dresses in a manner that flaunts his wealthy station: a pair of black slacks, white button up, and a black vest. All accented with gold lining and buttons. A gold pocket watch with a thin cold chain slithers from his breast pocket, and a monocle rimmed with gold adorns his right eye. 

The request is odd. But then again, everything about their interaction so far is odd. With no interactions with the man himself for two weeks, the sudden appearance and onslaught of oddly personal demands is… unnerving. 

But, even though the man isn’t a body collector himself, he is a collector all the same, and moves in the same circle as the wealthy bourgeois that Kurapika is looking for. Kurapika isn’t going to pass up this opportunity for intel. He just needs to be cautious. Something strange is going on here, his inner alarm bells are going off, and his instincts have yet to be wrong about a person.

“Please, Kurapika, it’s quite a simple... _ request _.” Alexander gestures theatrically with his hand. 

“I’m sorry, Mr. Beaufils-”

“Just Alexander is fine.”

“_ Mr. Beaufils _ , _ ” _Kurapika repeats firmly. “But I don’t believe this to be appropriate. You are my employer. What you are asking of me crosses that boundary.” 

“Please, Kurapika, this is but a small favour to ask. It’s not as if I’m demanding anything… _ unsavory. _ In return, I believe I do have something... you _ want _.” The man is now switching tactics, recognizing that Kurapika isn’t soft enough to cave from a pleading alone.

Kurapika pauses at that. Something he wanted. The Beaufils heir couldn’t already have a pair of eyes in his possession, could he? No. The man wasn’t a body collector. And there’s no way he would go out of his way to procure a pair just to make a deal with Kurapika. That leaves the last option: the man had information. But how to seal the deal without humiliating himself with going through with the man’s request? 

For the first time, Kurapika wishes he hadn’t limit his Chains for the Spiders.

“What do you have to offer me.” 

### +1+

_ This will be worth it. This will be worth it. _ Kurapika thinks to himself repeatedly, while he focuses on balancing on white heels. Silky white fabric clings to his figure, and flows outwards around his waist. The thin straps holding the fabric on his shoulders hides nothing above his chest, and the slit sliding up to his hips shows off the long stretch of his legs. The flower patterns that decorates the dress leaves Kurapika feeling like a decorated doll. (1) Overall, the dress was beautiful, but incredibly revealing. And given the present company, immensely distressing to be wearing.

The dark-haired man is standing meters away from Kurapika, admiring his form with leering eyes. The monocle glints in the light as he rakes his eyes up and down Kurapika. 

_ This is bullshit _. Kurapika thinks to himself. At least no one else will be able to see this humiliation. Beaufils had wanted to take Kurapika through town in the dress, but the blond had immediately shot down that idea. Instead, he had bargain to wear multiple dresses for Beaufils in exchange for information on the Scarlet Eyes. According to the man, he had an acquaintance that he knows who had an interest in the Eyes. If the man has an interest, then it’s likely he has information.

Kurapika had agreed and is now regretting his decision. There was something unnerving about the way he had insisted on the request. There was no shaking or signs of embarrassment; it is as if the ridiculousness of the request hasn’t even crossed his mind, but rather something he is entitled to ask for. 

Then, there is the way he had reassured Kurapika that there would be nothing more than to put on the dresses and pose. Something about the way his eyes crinkled into a grin unsettled Kurapika. And the pauses in between words. The man speaks as if there were hidden meanings behind them, and only he is in on the joke. 

But Kurapika couldn’t find any indiscretion to this exchange. If it is just putting on dresses and pose, it’s a small price to pay for information. Gods, he hopes this isn’t what the bodyguards here had to regularly do.

Sneaking a look at the intimidatingly muscular form of the head guard standing stoically in the corner, Kurapika didn’t think so. None of the dresses look like they were made to fit shoulders that wide.

_ Just me then. _ Goddamn his feminine looks. Any other day, he would consider it a blessing to be able to disguise himself as the opposite sex. Well, whatever. Something is still off about this situation, and it’s not just the perversity of coercion.

“Mr. Beaufils, I can’t help but ask, but I thought your hobby is in porcelain?”

“Why, yes it is. You’ve seen my... _ collection _, why do you ask?”

“You seem quite familiar with dresses. And I see you have a collection of them as well.” And indeed, to one side of the room are several clothing racks lined up to the brim with dresses of all colours, lengths, and styles.

The man across from Kurapika slowly grins. 

“Yes, well, you will find that my love for my porcelain figurines is quite… entwined with my... _ interest _ with dress... _ modeling _.” 

That had the hair on the back of Kurapika’s neck raising.

“And as lovely as you are in this, I’m afraid I would like you to change into another. You do look… _ ravishing _ in this, but I’m afraid I’m looking for a more… _ particular _ look on you.” Beaufils walks over to the racks and begins to run his hands over them searchingly.

_ It’s not as if I’m going to be wearing it after today _. Kurapika thinks to himself, but obliges, and takes another dress that is handed to him. 

Thankfully, there is a partition in a corner of the room where Kurapika can change in private. 

### +2+

The material is smooth and silky, flowing around Kurapika like ripples in a pond. The pure white fabric clung to his figure, blue lotus flowers stitched into a sweeping motion from his left hip down to the hem of the dress. On the opposite side, a series of large frills glides down his side to pool about him. (2) 

The stitches are a deep blue, and the combination of white and blue reminds Kurapika of traditional porcelain teaware and dish. And, eerily, of some of the dolls in the other room. 

The uneasiness that Kurapika felt earlier amplifies. 

“_ Yes. _ Trés bien! So very close. I can… _ feel _it.” Beaufils is now twitching, barely containing himself. His grin has now stretched into something more maniacal.

Kurapika is seriously considering calling it off. But no, he had to get that information first. Even if it's just a name. Afterwards, he can deal with this _ pervert. _ There are no other words for Kurapika to describe his employer. 

At least this dress covers more of him, even if it clung even tighter to his figure than the last dress. Kurapika can hardly move his legs. 

“Right. Well. If we’re done here-”

“NO!” Kurapika startles back as Beaufils practically lunges forward, a lunacy in his eyes before he collects himself. “I mean. Not. Yet. Just. One more. I know the _ … perfect _ one. Yes. Just one more.”

Kurapika watches the man now frantically rummaging through the line of dresses, obsessively searching. Gone is the pretense of class and finesse, and before him is a hysterically grotesque form dressed in expensive finery. 

Kurapika begins to edge towards the exit. He can’t run in these clothes, but if he can make it out the door and slam it, it could buy him some time. 

But before Kurapika can execute his plan, a pair of meaty hands clamp down on his bare shoulders. Looking up, Kurapika sees the head guard. His stoic expression unchanging while his grip remains tight.

Kurapika glares.

“Just… _ one more _, Kurapika, please.” 

“I need a name.”

“I’ll give you_ more than a name _ . I’ll arrange for you to _ meet _ . I’ll bring you to him, _ in person _.”

…

“Fine.” 

The desperation is suffocating.

### +3+

“This one, yes! This… is _ it _.” 

Black lace and sheer fabric made up the gothic dress that cuts off at mid-thigh in the front. Thankfully, the back and side are a lot longer. His legs are wrapped in black lace stockings and covered by thigh-high boots with laces that end in giant bows. The sleeves end at the elbow and flare out with lace. His neck is adorned with a lace collar and nothing below that. The frills on the dress are - once again - _ lace _. 

The top, despite already being breezy, is made of a sheer material on the sides, and the front cut in a V-shape that is only partially veiled by more sheer fabric. It’s back to thin straps and bare shoulders for Kurapika. (3)

Everything is delicate, innocently revealing. Even his hair couldn’t escape untouched. Encircling the top of his head is a band of black lacy material. 

Despite the discomfort, Kurapika revels in wearing something on his feet that allows for movement. Even if the dress is revealing more than Kurapika would like, at least now he can make a more plausible escape. Especially looking at the mess that the man that was once Alexander Beaufils has become.

The neat combed-back hair is now loose and sprawled about limply around his face. His eyes have bulged so widely that the monocle has popped out and is now swinging wildly around his neck. There is no longer any semblance of the man from before.

“_ Magnifique! Perfection!” _ The man gasped to himself. At this point, the man looks like he is about to start drooling. Disgusting.

“The name, Beaufils. We had a deal.” Kurapika glowers at his employer. Though at this point, _ former _ employer is more accurate. 

“N-no, no _ need. _ I can take you to him. Didn’t I say I would?”

“That’s unnecessary, Mr. Beaufils. Just the name will do.”  
  


“Alex! Please, call me _ Alex _.” The man staggers closer, and Kurapika bewilderedly takes steps back. 

“_ Mr. Beaufils _ , if you would just _ give me the name of your contact _, I will be on my way.”

That stops Beaufils in his track. 

“Oh. I... I will _ most definitely _ be showing you to him.” Beaufils stops, slaps his hands together and slowly pull them apart, a white liquid substance made from Nen began to spew from his palms. 

_ Oh, shi- _. Kurapika has just enough time to dodge to one side when Beaufils flings the liquid at him, and call on his chains when another goopy slop is thrown at him. This time, Kurapika guides his chains up to help redirect it. 

And immediately wishes he had just dodged instead. The liquid splashes onto Kurapika’s chain, stuck on, and _ began to expand _, freezing his chains in place. 

“_ Porcelain Slip _ !(4)” Beaufils cackles. “The _ beauty _ that is _ captured _ in porcelain cannot be contained by merely any _ simple _ material! No, _ beauty _ like you needs to be immortalized in _ porcelain _ . And that’s _ exactly _ what you will _ be _when my Porcelain Slip touches you.”

Dismissing his conjured chains, Kurapika frees himself and jumps back, only to jump out of the way of an enlarged fist. The Head Guard, an Enhancer moves to block Kurapika.

“NO! Don’t lay a hand on him! Let me… _ let me ...! _ ” The frantic ranting of Beaufils stops the Head Guard in his track. The hesitation is all Kurapika needs, and the blond swiftly delivers a kick straight into the bulky guard’s groin, disabling him from the battle.  
  


Kurapika conjures his chains again, this time he is ready for the disheveled man’s attack. With the guard out of the way, and Kurapika knowing what he’s up against, this should be a piece of cake. He just needs to dodge around the Slip, getting behind Beaufils, and restrain him using Chain Jail. 

_ No wait. _ Kurapika is suddenly struck by the realization, _ his Chain Jail doesn’t work on non-Spiders. _ Not unless he wants to bring himself down along with this sleaze of a human being. Not happening. He’ll just have to think of another way.

But before he can think of an alternative plan, Beaufils stops his mad flinging of white sludge. Instead, he stands panting in the middle of the room. 

“You’re… You’re a slippery one. But I _ … will have you. _ ” The Slip that has been thrown about the room began to gather together, forming larger blobs of white goop, and began crawling _ towards Kurapika at immense speed. _

Kurapika leaps back from the flying goops, backing away until his back hit the wall of the room, surrounded on all sides. 

“Th-This is it, Kurapika! _ You’re mine-” _

_  
_ _ CRASH! _

Through the tall glass pane windows, a figure smashes into the room and lands in a crouch, his dark coat flaring around him.

### +4+

An eccentric collector for realistic and priceless porcelain figurines. That is the portfolio that Chrollo had been able to assemble. But what he is seeing through the branches of the thick-leaved tree is something else.

“Hey, isn’t that the Chain Bastard?” A happy-go-lucky voice pipes up beside Chrollo. 

“Yes.”

“What’s he doing here?” Shalnark tilts his head, as if that would make the sight before him more comprehensible.

“Maybe he’s had a career change?” Nobunaga decides to pitch in his two cents. His grudge against the Chain Bastard evident in his voice, still sore at the loss of his friend. 

Unbeknownst to the occupants in the room, the three Spiders are hidden behind thick curtains of glistening snow and green foliage, provided by one of the massive pine trees that line the side of the house. In front of them are giant windows, beautifully framed and giving the Spiders a clear view of the room. And what they are seeing is not the most bizarre thing they have witnessed, but certainly one they were not expecting to see when coming to scope out the place.

They have watched the blond step out of the room that they believe the dolls were in, and into another one where he was… playing dress up?

What?

“Or maybe, it’s part of the service he’s providing?” Shalnark slyly eyes Nobunaga who snorts with laughter. An irritation spikes through Chrollo at Nobunaga’s words, though his face remains impassive. 

Chrollo pauses at that. It’s none of his business what Kurapika does at his job. Nothing Kurapika is doing has anything to do with Chrollo anymore. But, Chrollo can’t help but think back to their brief moment half a month ago. Was that even a moment? If what Kurapika said was true, then they are nothing to each other. The Kurta is no longer pursuing the Spiders, so he is no longer a concern for the Troupe. He is nothing to Chrollo. Right?

“Bastard’s gettin’ cozy with some sleazy rich guy right after all that righteous talk about his _ revenge _. Tsk.” 

That’s right: revenge. That is what Kurapika is to Chrollo. Someone he needs to even the scores with. Isn’t that what he should want?

“Well, technically it wasn’t right after. A couple months after?” Another head-tilt from the blond.

“Blah! Whatever. He’s clearly having fun with this guy. Do we have to watch this?”

Nobunaga’s words irritate Chrollo further. The Spider Head tells himself it’s because of the added complication that is the Kurta’s presence potentially throwing a wrench into his plans. The same Kurta that has defied the Spiders before they even knew he even exists. Not at all because Nobunaga’s comment is in direct conflict with the expression on Kurapika’s face.

No, absolutely not. Chrollo is definitely not noticing how uncomfortable Kurapika is in those outfits, no matter how pretty the slim-shoulder blond looks in them. And so what if he did? He can honestly say that the Kurta is _ objectively _ pretty. That doesn’t mean anything. Physical attraction is not an indication of anything more... significant. And the Kurta is not significant to the Spiders. The Troupe has no use for him.

Shaking himself out of his reverie, Chrollo gives his orders.

“No. We’re done with the scope out. We’ll reconvene tonight at the hideout to do one last check, and then carry out the heist.”

The two nodded. Nobunaga mutters about gouging out his own eyes under his breath and disappears.

Chrollo moves to do the same, rising from his crouched position and dusting off some snowflakes that had settled, but stops. Through the snow and pine needles, he can see Kurapika has switched from an elaborate gown to a frilly, black dress that shows off his long legs in a rather flattering manner.

Not that that was why Chrollo has paused.

Kurapika is backing away from Beaufils- who, at this point, is now completely unrecognizable from any of the photos the Spiders had on the man. He has conjured some sort of white substance and is flinging it everywhere. Now if that isn’t the epitome of the man’s... inadequacies, Chrollo didn’t know what is. 

Chrollo scoffs at the pathetic nature of the upper-class bourgeois, the scene before him reminding him of why he has no remorse from taking from the world. He should leave. This isn’t the Spiders’ business, and definitely has nothing to do with him. And yet, Chrollo finds himself rooted, unable to look away.

_ Kurapika is dodging around the man’s goop. _

It’s not as if Chrollo has anything to gain from further observing this altercation. He and the Kurta didn’t have anything to do with each other anymore. 

_ Kurapika’s dodge lands him into the path of the guard’s punch. _

Chrollo feels his hands tighten by his side, but he stays put. There’s no need to interfere. He thinks to himself how stupid it would be to jump into something that will gain him nothing, so there’s just _no point to it. _

_ Kurapika is now surrounded by the white liquidy substance. _

So he definitely will _ not _ be crouching low to propel himself forward from the tree, crashing through the tall panes of glass and landing in the most dramatic shower of fluttering snow, shattered glass and billowing coat, surprising all the occupants of the room, including the white goop, into frozen statues.

Except that is exactly where he finds himself.

### +5+

Surprise is a mild term for how Kurapika is feeling. 

He stares at the fur-lined coat figure that had dramatically interrupted the tension in the room and a plan formulates in his mind. Escape is now possible, thanks to the added distraction that the new-comer provides. And even if the Spider Head’s intentions be malevolent towards him, it would be no problem to use the confusion of another fighter to cover his escape. 

And by the looks of it, Chrollo has relatively thought of the same..

The minute Chrollo landed, he summons Bandit’s Secret into his hand, a page already selected, Bookmark Theme at the ready. Kurapika reforms his chains around him, bending and tucking his knees beneath him, ready to spring. 

In those spare seconds of a frozen moment, the occupants in the room to reassess their positions, then everything explodes into a series of motions.

Bandit’s Secret snaps shut as a sigil appears on Chrollo’s right palm: two circles, one larger and encircles the other, with two triangles inverted and overlapping. A symbol for fire rests on the tip of one triangle, and a lizard on the tip of the other. Chrollo snaps his fingers, and a burst of flame shoots across the room, igniting the room in a blaze of heat.

Kurapika, sees his intention even without knowing the ability, and leaps away from the goop that had began to harden from the heat, and towards the chill that has started billowing into the room. 

Beaufils breaks out of his startlement, and claps his hands together, more goop already slopping out of his hands, trying to form a protective barrier around himself, but is useless from the intense fire that bakes the Porcelain Slip, hardening them, then cracking and crumbling the solidified porcelain. The make-shift kiln that the room has become is rising to a temperature above what the porcelain can endure. 

Chrollo doesn’t let up his barrage of fiery assaults. Snap after snap, flames burst forth, slamming into the wall of slip.

Finally, the barrier breaks, and fire engulfs the room whole. Beaufils screams, trying to shield his face with his hands, but there is nowhere to escape from the blaze. He tries to move for the door, already feeling his face melting, but the Porcelain Slip that had been his protector now acts as jailor, slowing his progress until he can feel his nerves burn in agony. 

He can’t even reach the door. As he falls to his knees, he looks behind him, and is startled by what he sees. The beautiful blond now had bleeding red eyes, and is escaping out the jarred remains of the windows. Follow closely by the dark-haired Grim Reaper. He must be. Who else appears so swiftly to take a life, if not death himself. That would make the blond the Harbinger of Death. 

Beaufils groans. 

He thinks, as he crumbles along with the porcelain surrounding him, _ how unlucky is he to have become tangled with such misfortune. _

### +6+

  
  


The two of them sat in the snow. The soft crunch shifting beneath them as they leaned back in exhaustion. The two sat like that for a while, the adrenaline from the escape still fresh in their veins, though cooling with the help of the snow around them. 

Now that the danger has passed, Kurapika finally has a second to take in what had happened. Somehow, without Kurapika’s detection, the Spiders were nearby while he was on guard duty. He won’t weep about it this time since there were infinitely more pressing matters that had his attention at the time.

The timing of Chrollo’s… interference was coincidentally helpful. Even if the man did not intend to help Kurapika, after all, why would he? He must have come for his own personal, selfish, _ Spider-motivated _reasons. Kurapika refuses to think of alternate reasons for him being here, even if the timing is just a little suspicious.

“Well,” Chrollo finally broke the silence, taking Kurapika back to the present. “That was an interesting way to get away.”

“Yes.” Kurapika agrees. “It was … quite a close call.” He shudders remembering Beaufils’ twisted face, eyes roaming all over him.

“Do you always dress up for your clients?” Chrollo gestures at Kurapika’s ensemble.

“What?” The abrupt question throws Kurapika off. He looks about himself and realizes he’s still in the lolita outfit. And suddenly he can feel the cold biting at his exposed shoulders, the lace stockings not doing any better in protecting him from the ice and snow. 

A shiver runs up his spine. His clothes are probably now ash, and he’s left with an outfit that does nothing to help him. 

Suddenly, he feels a weight on his shoulders, and looks up to find Chrollo crouched beside him, his fur-lined coat now around Kurapika. 

Their faces are quite close, and Kurapika wonders why time has suddenly slowed. The whirling snowflakes from before are now a gentle drift, drawing a contrast to Chrollo’s hair and lashes while illuminating Kurapika in an otherworldly glow.

Through puffs of misty breath, Kurapika finds his voice. 

“It was for information.” Kurapika turns away, humiliation flooding through him. “He said he had information on the Eyes.”

“You would sell yourself for mere information?” Chrollo’s tone isn’t accusatory, only cautious, like he was trying to piece together this new information with what he had on Kurapika. But his words set Kurapika ablaze none the less. 

“Shut up!” Kurapika hisses, “Information of any kind is valuable. Humiliation is a small price to pay for it!” 

As soon as those words left him, Kurapika can feel the anger drain from him. 

What _ was _ he thinking? Agreeing to something like this when there wasn’t even a clear indication that the man would uphold his part of the bargain. If only he had been able to use his Judgement Chain on the creep, that would have been the ultimate assurance. How desperate has he become?

“Why were you here, Chrollo. What did you want?” Kurapika’s question breaks Chrollo away from his captivation of the other’s eyes. It had gone from the fiery, brilliant scarlet to a tired blue-grey. 

He wanted to steal porcelain figurines. That was the main goal for him trespassing in this mansion. As he continues to watch those mesmerizing eyes, he knows that’s not what the blond is asking, but he still has no answer for the Kurta.

Two weeks ago, Chrollo had thought he wanted revenge. But it does not take someone of great intellect to see how his actions contradict this. Even if he’s not so sure as to what he wants with the Chain User, he can now be certain it’s not to kill him. 

His actions tell him he still wants something from Kurapika. His previous conversation with this Spiders tells him it’s not revenge. Then what? 

Chrollo gaze at Kurapika calmly.

“What about you? What do you want?” Kurapika jerks his head back, blond hair whips around pale cheeks, indignation clear on his face. 

“You… You murdered my family! You have no right to ask-”

“You say you want justice. But isn’t your goal more like vengeance?” 

Kurapika’s face twists in pain like knives had been shoved into his guts.

“Vengeance _ is _ my justice,” he hisses from between clenched teeth.

“Then you’ve got a pretty sad sense of justice.”

“_ What would you know?" _

Kurapika’s breath comes out heavy. His indignation, though a flame in his core, began to die down as the raven-haired man before him regards him without hostility, even at the outburst. Instead, his face was curious and words are thoughtful.

“Your Judgement Chain, they can only be used on the Spiders?”

Kurapika’s eyes narrow.

“Yes,” he says between gritted teeth.

“How much more help do you think it would have been, had you been able to use it on that man? To force him into fulfilling his part of the deal?”

Kurapika glares and says nothing. To have something he had lamented about moments ago use against him by the Spider Head makes the bitter feeling in his mouth swell. 

He knows what the other man is implying and he is not going to bite. So Chrollo continues.

“If you weren’t so driven by revenge, you might have thought to expand your ability to include non-Spiders. It’s a powerful ability. Shame it can only be used on certain people.”

Still nothing.

“Do you think the Spiders are the only bad people in this world?” Chrollo’s head tilts. 

“Certainly a contributor,” Kurapika can’t help to bite out. Chrollo smirks.

“You will meet many like us and some even worse than we are.” Kurapika snorts in disbelief, but Chrollo forges forward, regardless. “What will you do when you face them? Your abilities are unsuitable for any other enemy. You will be vulnerable, all because you are too focused on getting your revenge. Unless you choose to avoid anyone dangerous that isn’t my Troupe. But with the career path you have chosen, you will have to won’t you? In order to retrieve the Eyes of your fellow Kurtians, you will have to face them, and your current abilities are ill-equipped for it.” 

Kurapika tsks, gets up and stomps away from the dark-haired man.

He doesn’t want to hear any more of what he already knows. This was his resolve, to hunt down the Spiders, and purge them from this world. And he wasn’t _ vulnerable _. There are other ways to retrieve the Eyes than the one that the Spider Head is currently suggesting. He doesn’t need his most forceful abilities for anyone but the Spiders. 

_ Then why were you backed into a corner? And why aren’t you fighting him now? _Whispers a small voice in the back of his mind, though it is quickly stamped down. 

Kurapika hears the crunch of another set of footsteps behind him but doesn’t slow his pace. 

“Perhaps you should think about what is more important to you, Kurapika. Revenge, or retrieving the Eyes.”

Kurapika stops in his tracks, head bowed and hands in fists. He breathes in to steady himself, then turns around quickly and throws a glare at Chrollo. 

“If I had to choose between you or my clan, I will always choose my clan. But don’t think, that given the opportunity, that I won't kill you.” As he says this, Kurapika angrily tears the coat from his shoulders, bundles it up into a tight ball, and flings it at Chrollo.

Now bare to the cold, Kurapika suppresses a shiver and resolutely turns back around and furiously marches away.

Chrollo watches the blond trudge away from the remains of the scorching house, still burning in the cold. He could see Kurapika struggling to make his way through the snow in his inconvenient outfit, most likely already freezing. He looks down at his coat and considers.

No, if the Kurta is going to be stubborn, then let him. Besides, he needs to check to see if there are any figurines left to salvage. 

There can still be something beautiful left after in the ruins of a ravaged wreck. (5)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dress:  
[ (1) ](https://www.pngkit.com/png/full/226-2267298_png-transparent-stock-image-apple-ink-wash-png.png)
> 
> [ (2)](https://vignette.wikia.nocookie.net/lovenikki/images/3/32/Umbrella_Memory.jpg/revision/latest?cb=20180413132500)
> 
> [ (3)](https://vignette.wikia.nocookie.net/lovenikki/images/3/3b/Gothic_Lolita.jpg/revision/latest?cb=20180803090544)
> 
> (4) How to make Porcelain Figurines:  
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G-K5F4LHxy0  
No really, the raw form of porcelain is a combination of clay, minerals and water that creates a substance called Slip.
> 
> (5) He’s talking about the Porcelain figures. Totally 100% about the figurines and not a certain blond.

**Author's Note:**

> According to the Wiki, Glam Gas Land is based on Las Vegas, which I went to visit with my friend on a trip. So, I’m basing the scenery and atmosphere of what I experienced there.  
\---
> 
> So, Duplicates is now like the smutty interlude without actual smutt. The Plot that kind of developed when I was writing Duplicates. It’s one of those situations where you start with smut and you get Plot that smacks you in the face.
> 
> Annnnnnd so now that there’s PLOT, I had to do a bit of research on the timeline in order to make things fit together. And, I think I royally f**cked myself over a bit. But that’s fine. That’s. Fine. All that means is that this series is now a canon-divergence. Not that there was anything canon about ANY of this in the first place. 
> 
> But yeah, so, if we were to follow the canon strictly, Duplicate would happen in the summertime, since the Black Whale happens almost immediately after the Hisoka vs Chrollo fight. HOWEVER, because I’ve now INTEGRATED plot into Duplicate which is set in Wintertime, the Black Whales is pushed to sometime in the Spring. Everything in Five Times doesn’t mess with anything in the timeline. So yeah. I’m trying to follow as much of the canon plot as possible, but this is a divergent series.


End file.
